You Are Not Alone
by Javer
Summary: All Might decides that it's time at last for his protégé to come out of his shell - because for once in his life, Midoriya Izuku has classmates who care about him. A wholesome series of one-shots, scenes, and vignettes about the UA kids being sweet and fun. Except Bakugou. Bakugou is just Bakugou. (Takes place around Chapter 98 of the manga.)
1. Prologue

"This won't do." The principal stood his ground.

There wasn't much, but he stood it.

"But, sir…"

Nezu took a slow sip of tea, and pinched the bridge of his fuzzy snout between two small pawpads – as if all the stress of running an absurdly high-profile school for hormonal super-teens were seated there, and all he had to do was work it free.

"Honestly, old friend, I'm giving you all the latitude I can. But we both know you can't teach him everything."

"And why not!" All Might pounded the arm of his chair, fighting back the urge to wheeze. "I may not be changing the weather quite as often as I used to, but that has no bearing on the boy's lesson plan. Quirk control, risk assessment, urban combat – young Midoriya will need to know them all, and who else would you have in charge of his development?"

Nezu sighed. "You're not being replaced, All Might." He toyed with his cufflink in thought. It was a little golden stud shaped like a wheel of camembert. "You'll still oversee his primary coursework, and any other special tracks you sign off on. All I'm proposing is a… well, an elective! A mandatory one.

"… Yes, I know, I didn't hear it until I'd said it."

"With all respect, Principal, I still don't see why we've got to take time out of his…"

"But that's exactly it!" The little headmaster hopped upon his desk. He began to pace, good shoes _tap-tap-tapping_ a familiar rut into the wood. "You can't see it, because _you_ were the singular Symbol of Peace all these years. Where was the hero presence in this city before you broke up the cartels?" Nezu whirled and thrust an accusatory finger.

"Before you overpowered their muscle, took away their hiding places, exposed the crooked officials? You learned to do everything on your own, brought hope back to the populace – and at the shores that All Might blasted clear, a new generation of heroism rose from the seafoam!"

The rodent wound up and tossed a tiny uppercut, nearly bowling himself over along with the forgotten teacup. "By _God_ , you were magnificent!"

The Symbol of Peace squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

"Ahem. But," Nezu continued, straightening his tie, "Midoriya isn't you. He shows remarkable spirit, but also resistance to some fundamental skills of modern hero work. And a serious case of schoolboy jitters, the poor sprout." Couldn't help but crack a smile at that one – ah, young Midoriya, you do have your quirks after all. "We have no idea if he'll end up as strong as you, or weaker, or-"

"Stronger," All Might said firmly. "He'll surpass me. You can bet your tail on it."

"-yes, well. Maybe one day, but today he still needs a support network. You understand? _You_ didn't need to learn to rely on your peers; he will. Only more urgently in the coming months, I'm afraid."

"And that lily-livered shyness has got to go."

There was a note of truth there that made All Might stroke his emaciated chin. "Is the boy really such a risky investment? He keeps notebooks, you know. Knowledge being power and all, if he isn't jotting down every peanut allergy in the building this very moment, I'll be stuffed."

"There are notes," Nezu agreed, "and there is learning. And there are allies – and there are comrades."

A thoughtful pause fell over the room.

At length a loud WHAP broke it cheerfully open; All Might slapped the arm of his chair again with a hint of his old strength. "Fine, then! If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. I'll brief him this very afternoon."

"You'll soon be tutoring a much happier egg, my friend. Wait and see." Principal Nezu clapped proudly – a gesture too adorable to politely comment upon – and leapt down to the carpet to walk him out, in strides as long as he could manage.

"Now send Lunch Rush in on your way out, please, we've got to review the new nutritional standards. Oh, care for a peppermint?"

* * *

"And in conclusion, the public depends upon an absolutely *sparkling* relationship between hero and police – brilliant heart to brilliant badge!"

A few people clapped weakly.

Aizawa looked like he'd been force-fed gravel for the past ten minutes. "Thank you, Aoyama. Seventy points. Minus fifty for reading your entire essay aloud, despite repeated protest from me _and_ three other classes. I don't understand why you keep doing that."

The blond boy sat down, supremely satisfied.

"Everyone, topic statements only. Please. I only get to maim one of you per semester, and I'm trying to save it for midterms. Next is Ojiro-"

The bell rang, sending an armada of teenagers bouncing up from their desks.

"-or it would be, if that hadn't used up all our time. Your drafts are due by the end of the week, and I should have been an accountant," Aizawa finished, to a mostly deserted room. A few scraps of doodled-on scratch paper fluttered to the floor like dying birds.

"Thank you, Aizawa-sensei. See you tomorrow," Yaoyorozu said primly, organizing her pens.

Deku scribbled his last few bullet points, tongue stuck out in concentration. Uraraka waited patiently. "Hey! Mina-chan said she's setting up an afterschool dance league in the gym. Do you guys want to check it out?"

Iida adjusted his glasses. "Hrm. A waste of time. But between speed-based specialists, I do respect Ashido-san's athleticism. If this hobby is the secret, it would be perfectly appropriate to observe her form… nothing untoward meant, of course," he added painfully, to a few amused looks.

Oh yes. Deku could see himself now: trapped in a circle of howling bodies, flailing and yawing like a wounded giraffe, stomping not-at-all-in-time to music that made his skull throb. He tried a breakdance spin and kicked a girl in the face before jackknifing into a support beam.

That's how his dance career would begin. Screaming, blood, and several hundred yards of caution tape.

"I think they keep the caution tape _in_ the gym, actually," he mused to himself.

Uraraka blinked. "Huh?"

"I mean- I'd love to!" he apologized hastily. "But, uhm, I really wanted to ask Cementoss-sensei a few things after class, and- loads of homework, you know…"

A gentle look tugged at the corner of his friend's mouth. "Deku-kun, you know no one would make fun of you or anything, right? Or they wouldn't really mean it. Except Bakugou. But fun isn't really his thing in the first place."

He hated it when she looked at him like that – all open and trustworthy. It made his throat dry and his face hot. He evaded her gaze, ducking textbooks into his bag. "Y- yeah, of course. I know that."

Uraraka bent down, studying him for a moment, until at last she broke out in a smile. "Okay. But you gotta take your nose off the grindstone sometime!" She shot out a finger and _boop_ ed it, making him squawk. "It's buttony enough just the way it is."

Iida gave him a brotherly pat on the shoulder in exit. "You'll be a fine hero one day, Midoriya. But you mustn't burn yourself out all alone. See you at lunch, all right?"

Deku sniffed. He didn't deserve their concern.

Manfully, he held it together all the way down the hallway, keeping the stinging behind his eyes at bay, until a sudden deep cough made him jump.

"A, All Might?!"

There shone his mentor, like a battleship in a yellow three-piece suit. All muscle and twice the spirit, the Symbol of Peace seemed to fill the corridor. "Why, if it isn't young Midoriya!" he boomed with his characteristic force, nearly bowling Deku over. What a stunning coincidence! How are classes, my boy? Splendid!" he declared, before Deku could answer.

All Might bent over a little to sling a massive arm around the boy's shoulders companionably. "In fact, I've found an answer to your little thesis from last week!"

"But I didn't ask-" Deku said, confused.

"Nonsense! It'll make a grand paper, with a little heroic refinement," All Might thundered, swiftly scanning the hallway. It was empty. "Let's discuss it right—in—here!" He slid open the nearest classroom door and swept Deku inside.

No sooner had it shut than All Might let out a tremendous breath, shedding his over-strained bulk in a puff of steam.

Deku sped to pull out a chair, and the skin-and-bone phantom collapsed into it gratefully. "Thank you, my boy. Man alive, that's getting more taxing than ever."

"Is it really all right to push yourself so hard just for appearances, All Might?"

"Oh, for now – _oof_ …" The stretch was heavenly relief; the gunshot acoustics from his cracking joints less so. "You'll find that people remember most what you show them first. A hero's job is to put on a brave face, no matter what."

"Oh, sure but- I just mean, I think everyone already knows what you look like, ever since…"

All Might's brow dipped in confusion … then he laid himself a mighty smack in the head, bellowing with mirth. "You're right! You're absolutely right. Ha ha… I've been hiding this wretched old bag of bones so long, I forgot I don't have to anymore!"

Maybe it was just his imagination, but for the first time in memory, that world-famous laugh somehow rang a little hollow.

All Might shook his mighty head. Then he leaned forward at the teacher's desk, tenting his fingers gravely.

"Listen, my boy," he began. "I'm sorry I interrupted you earlier. How _are_ things going? In classes, in the dorms?"

Something in his tone told Deku this was more than a checkup. "Ah- fine, I think. I've been feeling more limber since Aizawa-sensei corrected my warmup method last month. I've been trying to push my power output a little bit day by day… I slipped two spots in the last exam, but with an extra thirty minutes in the lib-"

A thin hand in the air silenced him.

"I meant with your classmates, young hero."

All Might had gone right when Deku expected left.

"Are you having fun in school? Do they treat you well; include you in things? Any, oh… special interest in anyone?"

Now he did a half twirl sideways and sprouted wings.

"Wh- treat…? _Interest?!_ All Might, I don't understand."

His mentor barked a short laugh. "Fine, Midoriya, fine! Deep breaths. It's just something the staff and I have been mulling over. An adjustment to your standard curriculum."

"More homework?" Deku guessed weakly.

"Pah. Hardly. If I'd had to take as many exams in my scholarly years as you lot do these days, I'd be one big ulcer. No, no – we'd rather you _socialize_ , my boy." All Might thrust open the curtains, flooding the classroom with light.

On the grounds below, uniformed figures walked and sprinted and danced. They buzzed in friendly clusters like schools of fish, alive with giggles and easy banter, before some split off in the direction of the dorms or library or cafeteria and others joined in their place. A boy a little older than Deku, sporting long, curly red hair, shyly took another student's hand, and their friends erupted with squeals and whoops.

"You have the privilege of attending the finest hero academy in the country, with a lot of other bright young folks that will someday become the stewards of this nation," All Might said gently. "So if you want a lesson to mark, mark this." He snapped his fingers.

"There will always be time to lift more weight; to study the disaster videos; to invent some clever new stratagem. But, ah! One day the boots hit the ground, young man, and then there's never time for anything else. You've got to build those bonds now. A lesson I – failed to learn in time."

For a moment he looked lost, flexing a hand idly; as if there were something he meant to grasp but didn't know how.

"You… failed, All Might?"

He answered remotely, still gazing out the window. "You're familiar with the man they call the number two hero. The one whose son you saw to in the Sports Festival."

Deku was. He thought of Todoroki, and of his father. Of great hands wreathed in flame – of eyes scorched dark and narrow.

"You know something I've learned, my boy? You never know who's waiting for someone to just _ask_. I've never stopped thinking: what if I had just sat him down and talked things out, years ago? That, too, is a way of saving people… A friend today may spare you a foe later."

Friends.

What the hell did Deku know about making friends?

Absently, he fingered the scar on his leg. This one came from when his closest thing to a best friend kicked him down a riverbank in middle school. Then he loudly invented a score system for the flunkies trying to tag Deku with rocks.

He still couldn't bring himself to hate Kacchan, not really. Power was all he understood. He was just working from his own twisted playbook.

But Deku knew, in a deep place he didn't often visit, about the looks their classmates cast when the hitting and threats and browbeating started again. For the two of them, it was just picking up from old times. Who knew what Uraraka and Iida thought; or why Kirishima would tug at his buddy's shoulders, laughing with a little less easy vigor than usual – _come on man, that's enough, hey, help me out with this worksheet here._ Even Mezo had once let out a quiet, disapproving snort from a nose he'd sprouted somewhere discreet. At least Deku thought he had. Hard to be sure.

"Oh, now, it's not so bad. Buck up!" All Might clapped him a hearty one on the shoulder, and his grin shone with such real cheer and amusement that Deku couldn't help but feel a little better. That was what people loved about the No. 1 hero; he had a way of blasting your worries into sunny smithereens. "No mumbling, now. I guarantee it'll be easier than you think."

Deku regained his balance, barely. "I- if you say so, sir! But I'm not really sure where to start."

"Well, there's twenty students in 1-A; pick someone you don't know very well. Spend time with them. Make excuses. 'Hang out', as they say. Try their hobbies. Join their reindeer games." A reference Deku didn't quite grasp.

His mentor checked the time. "And given that lunch is half over, might I suggest the pot au feu?"

"O- oh! I promised to meet Iida-kun and…" Deku scrambled for his bookbag. He paused, and ducked a quick bow. "Thank you, sir. I have no idea how it'll go and I feel like I might die. But I'll give it a shot."

All Might barked with laughter. "I've got faith you'll survive, my boy! Off with you!"

The boy disappeared around the corner in a skitter of feet. All Might folded his skinny arms with some pride.

Before covering the window back up, he took one more long, fond look into the sun-splashed courtyard. The grin reflected back refused to go away. "You're gonna thank me again in a few years."

Poor kid. No idea they liked him already.

* * *

Fingers inches from the large double doors, Deku hesitated.

 _Okay. First day of the rest of your hero career. And by extension, your life._

He crammed down the dark thoughts that burbled up like poison, took a deep breath, and pushed.

The cafeteria was merry with conversation and moving bodies, tables stuffed to the ends with U.A. students in every size and stripe chatting, gobbling, laughing, flirting, drinking, arguing. Lunch Rush's assistants could be seen darting back and forth behind wall-to-wall serving counters, plating up steaming bowls of every conceivable foodstuff with superhuman efficiency.

Deku had always taken some private pride in the things his mother could do with a hot pan and a sack of value-priced groceries; but with the creamy scents of simmered herbs and good meat tingling his nose, everything else seemed far away.

He spotted his class by a pair of kinked horns bobbing above the crowd; they poked out of Mina's trademark frazzle of cotton-candy hair. She had one leg perched on a chair (skirt hiked dangerously high), like a pirate on an unearthed treasure chest. "So when you do the spin, you gotta throw some heat on it, like _this_ -"

"Mina-chan, please, show some decorum!" Yaoyorozu pled, wringing her fair hands.

The boys' club sat together as usual. Sero had apparently dared Kirishima to down an entire turkey drumstick in one bite, which he crunched victoriously to a round of disgusted cheers. Deku saw a blast of pale yellow hair and shifted to avoid direct sight. But Bakugou ate too ravenously to look up, stopping only to duck a giant platter of pork cutlets that Satou awkwardly swung overhead.

In the corner seat, Kouda smiled a blissful, rocky smile under a large pair of headphones, his tofu curry forgotten. Jirou queued another song up for him from her phone. Nearby, Kaminari doodled jaggedy rock band logos in his brand-new notebook.

So many people. So many smart, talented, interesting, _normal_ people. Ones with natural Quirks and a lifetime of practice. They were nothing like him.

And so many possible rejections; Deku watched each one play over and over in his head in perfect eternal horror.

There. Uraraka and Iida two rows down, jabbering about their essay topics. Uraraka was trying valiantly to sip her milkshake and pay attention at the same time; Deku watched as she chased the straw around the glass like a rosy-faced pufferfish. He snorted down a surprise giggle, and felt a little better.

All Might's wistful words rang in his head.

 _You never know who's waiting for someone to just ask_.

The tray steadied in his grip.

 _Okay, then. Okay, then._

Who first?

* * *

This is the prologue to a series of one-shots, vignettes, and scenes about a sweet dorky kid making his first lifelong friends. The chapters that follow may be short or long, silly or highfalutin, flirty or friendly. They focus on different students in Class 1-A and beyond, and are only roughly connected. As they come out, feel free to read them in any order you like.

Thanks for reading.


	2. Tenebrous Tides (Tokoyami)

It was half past four when Tokoyami gave the signal.

Probably. It was probably, almost definitely a signal. Deku had witnessed it before in training drills and group projects and even the boys' restroom – whenever he fixed on you with that fierce avian stare, it was always calculated, conspicuous, and highly alarming. He was probably singly responsible for more vigorous hand-washings at UA than any actual terror of spreading germs.

Deku hadn't noticed Tokoyami enter the library; but there he waited against a pillar, thin arms folded across his uniformed breast. Leveling that predator's gaze on Deku, he glanced sideways and silently tipped his beak towards the door. _Follow me._

Uneasy alarms went off in Deku's head. He shoved _The History of Hero Law_ _VIII_ into a collection basket and bounded up, ready for action.

The bird-man had already slipped out into the hallway.

* * *

"Tokoyami-kun. I'm here. What's the mattrmphh-?" A dry, ghostly tendril whipped over his mouth.

" _Quiet,_ " he hissed. Deku felt the weird warmth of Tokoyami's living shadow recede slightly, just enough to let him draw breath. Intense eyes locked on. "The walls have ears, always."

They checked left, right, and over each other's shoulders. Setting sunrays bathed every corner in evening colors; enough to make Dark Shadow squeak and pull its – arm? neck? – back into the safety of its master's bookbag. The corridor was completely, deathly empty.

Tokoyami seemed to relax. "Glad to have found you, Midoriya. The hour grows late and there is precious little time."

The hour? But classes only ended a little while ago. He must have looked as foolish as he felt, because…

"Late indeed," Tokoyami repeated coolly, "for time waits for no man!" He ran a hand through his crown of jet-black feathers. "Nor do the tenebrous tides of danger… and we bear a sworn-"

"Danger?!" Deku's guts twisted into heated knots. Someone was hurt. Someone had had an accident. From 1-A? The support division? "Who's in danger? Do they need our help?"

Tokoyami paused. "No, I… Blood is spilled, and a fête of chaos awaits. Where a roll of the die makes the difference between life and death-"

An earthquake. A fire. Iida's jets had malfunctioned and sent him hurtling into a ditch. Uraraka levitated too high and passed out from nausea directly over a pit of rusty railroad spikes. Hatsume finally blew up a class of grade-schoolers. The list of sick possibilities went on and on.

"Damn it!" Deku found himself shaken back and forth by the shoulders like an Etch-A-Sketch. "Hear me, Midoriya. There are worlds other than these, worlds where pitched battle is a child's pastime – where the deeds of men are written in scarlet!"

– Tsuyu's tongue caught in an abandoned beartrap, a savaged little corpse on the floor of the girls' locker room sporting a camera and a blissed-out rictus grin, All Might finally coughing up his entire insides as Deku always secretly feared-

Pitched battle? The deeds of men. Deku's eyes shot open to the size of dinner plates. It all made sense now.

"Villains," he whispered through bone-dry lips. "Another raid?"

How could they attack again so soon? With the Symbol of Peace out of commission, of course this would be their golden chance, but he was sure that Shigaraki would still be licking his wounds for a while yet—

No time. He dipped into a sprinter's stance. "Tokoyami-kun. Thank you for telling me. We need to alert every teacher still in the building, now. Go and evacuate who you can, then get to safety; in a few hours it'll be too dangerous to let Dark Shadow loose."

The bird-boy gawped like a dying fish.

"Midoriya, I'm only trying to-"

"I'll meet you in the courtyard! Go!"

There was still time. There had to be, he ordered himself. Clinging to that iron belief helped pump adrenaline through his system, spurring his legs into action. He dashed down two corridors and a stairwell, vaulting over the railing like an Olympic gymnast with hellhounds on his tail. Faint yelling snatched at the air behind him; but he was too quick.

Just one more floor to the lounge… Plenty of gas in the tank, his feet felt alive and light-

A little too light-

Had he seen the security footage later, Deku might have found it less personal (maybe even comical) the way he turned a full two glorious flips in the air before crashing back to earth. Or to linoleum, in point of fact. It was a little hard to appreciate the distinction while waiting bug-eyed for the wind to come whooshing back into his walloped lungs.

Wrapped desperately around his ankle was a wire-thin sliver of Dark Shadow. Tokoyami staggered around the last corner, wiping the sweat out of his plumage and gasping for dear life. "I'm... not as fast… as you, you jackass…"

He flopped over onto his back. It took him a few seconds to form the words, and a few more to lamely wheeze them out.

"Do… do you want to join my boardgame club… ?"

Deku just stared.


	3. Gains (Satou, Kirishima, Bakugou)

Deku's mom was a strong believer in eating your veggies to grow up big and strong; and wanting that more than anything, Deku had dutifully cleaned his plate every night. But no matter how much spinach and peas and diced pepper he shoveled down, it all unfaithfully flew away overnight – somewhere other than the bodybuilder bulk he felt he was due.

Oh, he didn't feel _scrawny_. Maybe at first, but All Might's well-calculated diet plan and workout schedule had transformed him into a lean, mean, wiry machine. Sometimes in the early morning, he'd get up and just look in the mirror in awe; rewriting the memory of his sorry old body with this strange new one that looked like it was carved out of wood.

He felt like a bicycle paperboy being handed the keys to a souped-up, high-powered motorcycle. Somewhat undeserving, but proud just the same.

Still. With boys like Kacchan around and posters of All Might plastered all over his wall, it was easier to admit he had always felt a little small.

He doubted Rikidou Satou had ever had that problem.

Rikidou Satou was _big_.

"Wassup, Midoriya," he greeted, his steps thudding on the linoleum. You could hear him coming a full minute before he actually entered a room. A large black gym bag hung over his shoulder.

"Satou-kun! How are you this morning?"

He yawned like a grizzly as he met Deku at the end of the hall. "Man, I've never been an A.M. person. Better get started if we want a shower by homeroom." He swiped a student ID, carefully gripping the card like some people would hold a postage stamp, and the gym doors swung open.

The Heights Alliance dorm featured two exercise areas; this was the smaller one, and it still dwarfed most other gyms Deku had ever seen. In the center stood a cluster of bizarre weight machines built for every imaginable size and body type. Barbell racks and free weights lined two walls, ultra-durable treadmills and stationary bikes two more. Satou squeezed past Deku and slid his bag into a cubbyhole near the door.

"Gotta say, I'm like – surprised you wanted a workout buddy? Like, not _bad_ ," he remarked. "I just thought you were already set with the class prez or somebody. Or Miss Floats." Deku laughed a little in mid-stretch.

"No, Iida likes to do his routine in the evening, out by the jogging trails. We tried once, but then he triggered his Recipro Burst and I kind of… got blasted off the road."

Satou talked breathlessly between sit-ups. "It can—be hard to match—your pace to somebody else. I get it. Guys who are—evenly matched, they got it easy. Somebody to push back. Like …"

Footsteps and a muffled voice rang in the hall. The doors swung open with a beep.

"So like, Crimson Riot used to use this special wax-" Kirishima chattered, breaking off when Bakugou's face went as sour as a pickled lime. "Huh? Oh! Satou, Midoriya, funny seein' you guys here."

"Yeah. Funny." Bakugou's eyes locked on Deku. He fought the urge to look away. "Can't stop laughing."

"Well, come on in," Satou said uneasily, "plenty of room for four. Hell, probably room for fifty."

Bakugou bristled like his shock of hay-blond hair might actually explode. He shoved his hands in his sweatpants pockets. "There's room for _me_. And maybe I don't mind you doing your own thing out of my way. But since when," –tipping his head in Deku's direction – "are you letting this geek drag you down? You're no treat to look at, but I thought you knew how to keep company."

Satou's heavy brow narrowed. "Pretty sure we live here, same as you."

" _Oh._ " Were there supposed to be that many teeth in a smile? "Oh, no, extra. Never the same as me."

A puff of red flashed in their faces as Kirishima darted to intercept.

"Whoa, take it easy, bros!" Another few seconds and it would have taken a crowbar to pry them apart instead of his firm push. "We're all buddies here. Or we're all _neighbors_ here. Classmates? Come on, man, friendly up. When do I ever get up at six?"

Kirishima whipped Bakugou around and laughed off the reflexive punch in the jaw. "Yeah, okay, you're mad. You know my lazy ass, though, nine out of ten days I just crunch the alarm. We're already here, so let's just do a couple sets, get-in-get-out style, and then everybody starts the day over from scratch. Deal?"

Through a half snarl, the blond boy mumbled something that sounded like "fine". Kirishima beamed.

"C'mon. Let's try those shoulder presses again from last week, see how far we get." He gave one last apologetic wave as the duo trotted off to the dumbbell racks.

Deku felt the ice shooting up his spine slowly dissipate. He hadn't been able to say anything, again. Would it even have helped? Satou _hmph_ ed.

"Whatever. Hey Midoriya, come spot me on this one." He finished loading the last few plates onto a barbell that was already full to groaning.

"Wha—me?! I mean, I'll try, but I'm not sure it'll be safe for you to-"

His broad grin teased without cruelty. An unfamiliar combination. "Relax, little man."

Satou entered a half-crouch and nestled his huge hands around the bar. Deku focused, acutely aware that this could potentially go sideways real fast… along with both of their spines.

The overwhelming heat of One for All began to percolate behind his ribs, beating power up his arms and down his back, ready to assist should the bigger man's knees buckle –

Then Satou hissed softly between his teeth and deadlifted four times Deku's bodyweight. The bar creaked satisfyingly.

"Holy _shit!_ " went an astonished cry from across the room. Kirishima bustled over, shining with sweat. "You're in another league, dude. Are you using your Quirk right now?"

"Nahhhh," he managed behind a clenched grin, "Would ruin… the point…" He allowed the bar to meet his shins, back ramrod-straight, then heaved it up three times more. The two boys looked on with admiration. Out of the corner of his eye, Deku could see Bakugou loading his own bar with cold, deliberate focus.

A whistle went up. "Still. I wouldn't wanna lock horns with you."

Satou scratched his head. "Thanks. But, it's not that great… I mean, you and me, we've got similar problems, right? All brawn, no game plan." He gratefully accepted the water Deku handed him. "Not like these two brainiacs."

"That's why we failed the exam with Cementoss," Kirishima agreed, toeing the floor sheepishly. "Some guys just have cooler heads when it counts. Right, Midoriya?"

"… Midoriya?"

Satou guffawed. "Oh, boy. Now we did it."

"-so if just a few grams of sugar produce a sustained five-fold increase in muscle output – what's the real trigger, the glucose energy or some kind of neural limiter? He metabolizes faster than normal without tearing the muscle tissue apart – so! So if we kept feeding the reaction with sugar pills, maybe he could get used to the dampening effect over time…"

There was a clank and a strangled growl from the back. Bakugou slammed out another bench-press, looking murderous.

Kirishima chopped the air in front of Deku's face. "Yo? Mr. Smarts? You in there?"

He yanked his hand away with a squeak when the shaggy green head whipped to the left, eyes aflame. "Satou-kun! What happens to your Quirk when you ingest different kinds of sugars? Like fruit, or honey? Have you tried artificial sweeteners?"

Still toweling sweat off his brow, the hulking teen blinked. "Huh? Oh yeah, yeah, the doc experimented with all that when I was a kid. Lessee… They give me a little bottle of the refined stuff for the field, but as long as it comes from a plant, it all works pretty much the same. 'S why my folks got me to practice baking – if it's in food, I can up my tolerance and keep a low-level boost going. That's why I always have some cake before a study break! Trains up my mind." More furious clanking noises from behind.

"I thought that was just you bein' a pig," Kirishima jived. "But no, that's hardcore, man. You still do okay in class. Better than me anyway."

"A little," Satou admitted. "Wouldn't blame you if you called it cheating. But I always kinda wondered if I'd be a real genius or somethin' if I just changed my diet for a while." He laughed a little darkly. "But that'd be giving up the only thing I got."

Deku toyed with a water bottle in his hands, thinking. "You know, I kind of get what you mean. About only having one thing."

He joined Satou on the bench.

"I didn't have a... much use of my Quirk for a while. Too dangerous and all. But, er- All Might said something in an interview once: the best heroes know what they _can't_ do, better than what they _can_."

It was the barest of lies: All Might hadn't said that.

His mother had.

"So… you should definitely work on minimizing the downsides, but in the meantime… You can rely on your team to point your strength where it needs to go, right?" Deku reached out and did something odd, but it felt right: he chucked him lightly on the shoulder.

Satou looked a little astonished. "Thanks, Mi-"

 _ **BAMMM!**_

Heat blasted them all from the side. Kirishima instinctively leapt, guard up, his arms flash-stiffening into rigid armor. A singed dumbbell rocketed through the air and sliced thirty-five pounds of windburn into his scalp.

Deku had half a second to recognize the smell before an acrid, smoky hand jammed itself over his mouth.

"Less talk," Kacchan said silkily, eyes burning. "More work."

They finished their sets quietly.

* * *

"What are we gonna do about the bench you busted?"

"I'll take care of it later," said Bakugou, refreshed. "I need a wash and we ain't missing class."

"Oh!" Satou loped back to the cubbyhole and unzipped his bag. Inside was a sealed lunchbox. "I, uh, fixed a few breakfast bars for Midoriya and me afterward… Help yourself if you guys want…"

They were still warm, toothsomely chewy, and tasted like honeyed apples. "Wow, Satou-kun, these are really good."

Kirishima took one eagerly and began to gnaw. "So I know that went a little south, but hey, it was a good experience on the whole, right? Wanna do it again next week?" Bits of granola flew into Bakugou's hair.

Bakugou shook off the wet crumbs and the food with a seething stare. "Get that out of my face. I _told_ you," with an accusing finger thudding into Deku's ribs, "that he is functionally incapable of clamming up and getting a job done. 'Gee, Kacchan, I guess I got lost and found myself near a kettlebell for the first time ever! Maybe I should pick it up and shut my mouth?' No, everything has to be a freakin' speech. You clowns can do what you want, but I can feel myself losing mass just listening to it."

Kirishima swallowed the rest of his breakfast in one great munch. "Coulda fooled me, dude. Shattering your PB and all."

"Which would be _fine_ if-"

Bakugou paused. "I what?"

"Yup. Check the log. You think I wasn't paying attention? Nobody thinks I pay attention. You smashed your record by like twenty pounds, right when Midoriya started talking."

Bakugou snatched it and flipped angrily to the latest page.

Somebody coughed.

In one graceful, crystalline, pissed-off maneuver, he thrust the notepad into Kirishima's chest, grabbed back the last of Satou's treats, and stomped off toward the showers.

"Next Wednesday. Not ten seconds late. In fact, I wanna see all of you bastards here two minutes early. _No talking_."

He shot one last over-the-shoulder glare at Deku, who fought down a suicidal giggle.

Then he spun and stalked out the door, snapping a savage bite without even removing the wrapping.

"And bring more of these, dammit!"


	4. Criminal Minds (Ashido, Todoroki, Tsuyu)

"You have the wrong idea," Ashido whispered. Cold, sullen, artificial light washed her in whites and grays. Shadows haunted her rosy face. "You think you're onto something, but I swear, I- I don't know anything else."

No one answered, so she did it for them. "… Right. Yeah, you're thinking, 'Sure, Mina, you're innocent – that's why the testimony singles you out, huh?' _Testimony_." Her laugh was as dry and bitter as ashes. "I hear it. I hear it from all of you – like nobody else in this room ever hid anything, or- or smoked, or dropped a _gum wrapper?_ Total perfection, right?"

There was a water glass in her fist. She looked at it dully, as though she had never seen it before. Felt its edges. Hefted it, as if contemplating the weight.

Then she lifted it to her lips and drained it in long, savage gulps. The glass trembled in her fingers.

"I don't know what you want. I admit this looks bad. B- but, but… you _know_ me, don't you? God, I feel like—like I'm in a room full of strangers, waiting for the sentence that'll shut it all down. You were my friends. You _are_ my friends. I have to- have to still believe that. Please."

She _hicced_ , just once, and all the fight left her shoulders. Mina sagged, silent and defeated, pale-knuckled fists balled up on her thighs. "Please." The first tear – the only tear – welled up at the crescent of her dark eyes and cut down her cheek like a scar.

Deku made a mental note to update Ashido's file.

It was a blisteringly good performance.

He slapped down a card. "Sorry, Ashido-san. You're the crook. Confirm?"

"Yes. And in the final round, too." Todoroki, looking faintly ridiculous in his huge white judge's wig, reached over and tapped her on the head with the plastic gavel.

Mina tossed her cards in the air, where they fluttered like snowflakes. "Aw, poop. And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids." She whipped out a compact mirror and began to dab away her smudged makeup.

"And your frog," added Tsuyu, with a hint of pride.

"It's true. Asu- … Tsuyu provided the last piece of the puzzle when she guessed you had the lockpick."

"Yeah, and what good did that do? She was wrong! Like I said, I used the keycard to get in." Cute, when she huffed like that. "I'm a good liar… not that any of you should ever bring it up outside this room."

The detective flipped over his partner's hand with a flourish. "Oh, I know you didn't have it, Ashido-san. Because _she_ did." The criminal swore, sending a stray blob of mascara splatting on the table.

"If you want the right answer, give the wrong one and wait," mused Todoroki, impressed.

" _Ribbit_. I thought Midoriya-chan might not get it. You see, he doesn't always pick up on… signals." Her gaze was huge and typically unreadable. Mina snickered.

"Okay, pack it in, dorks. The great Pinky needs her beauty rest."

Todoroki stood and stretched with his usual measured grace. "Here's my cards… I'll be going first. I have notes to return to Yaoyorozu."

"WHAT K-"

"What kind of notes, Todoroki-chan?" Tsuyu asked neutrally, one hand clapped airtight over Mina's delighted squealing.

The taller boy froze. So did the doorknob in his hand, peppering the paneling with tiny crystal flakes that melted almost as quickly as they grew. He examined a particularly interesting mote of dust on the wall. "Notes. Note notes. On… topics of interest. Good night."

"Ah—Todoroki-kun!" Deku clambered to his feet. "You're still wearing the wi- MMPH!"

This time a hand clapped to _his_ mouth, a bright pink one, in perfect concert with the long steely tongue whipping around his midsection and yanking him backwards into a chair.

"That," Mina purred sweetly into his ear, "was your game. Now we're going to play mine. Coming, dear Tsuyu?"

"You're a real sneak, Mina-chan. Just terrible. Let's go watch."

Later, stammering through the journalism club's questions, Deku affirmed this was probably not a very heroic stunt. Students reported horrified cries from the second-floor dorms – male _and_ female, according to witness testimony – and some kind of a flaming hairball arcing out the nearest window like a powdery candle. He certainly wished it hadn't landed them all a quarter page in the school paper.

There was some awkward silence in homeroom, and a good long lecture about the smoke alarm, and of course the stench of burnt plastic hung around outside Yaoyorozu's hallway for days.

But he had to admit, it was kind of funny.


End file.
